


The Thoughts that Divide Us

by LucindaAM



Series: A Day in the Life [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Light Swearing, Multi, Nightmares, No Smut, Teleportation Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucindaAM/pseuds/LucindaAM
Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and you try to wake him.Slight spin on a common troupe.
Relationships: Bucky/Reader (budding romance), Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: A Day in the Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946242
Comments: 15
Kudos: 93





	The Thoughts that Divide Us

Your eyes flew open and your body went ridged in the darkness as you searched for whatever it was that had just woken you. A few seconds later, a voice screamed in the distance and you didn’t hesitate. 

You closed your eyes and blinked, teleporting yourself through the wall separating your room and Bucky’s. 

“Barnes. Hey. Bucky!” You called into the darkness. Russian curses sounded from the bed where a figure was writhing. Steve had warned you that Bucky might have nightmares while he was gone but he’d also told you to have JARVIS lock the doors and arm the night-night guns Tony had installed in the ceiling. “It’s too dangerous for you to go in there by yourself.” He’d warned. You’d believed him. Steve had still been sporting the shiner Bucky had left him with a few hours earlier and that was with Steve's superhuman ability to heal. You wouldn't stand a chance. 

But anyone with half a brain could see that the man writhing in front of you now was in PAIN and you COULDN’T just stand by, leaving him trapped in the hell that was his mindscape. 

So you did what you always did. 

You jumped in feet first. 

You blinked over Bucky’s bed and fell straight on to him, straddling his hips. The impact jolted Bucky to consciousness but he was still disoriented. He swung his metal arm towards you. You blinked again and appeared next to his bed. You waited for the swing and then gripped his metal arm in both of yours. You twisted and popped and blinked to your room, dropping the detached metal appendage on your dresser before you reappeared next to Bucky who had nearly tumbled out of bed at the force of his carry-through. 

“Bucky?” You asked quietly, taking a step towards him. Bucky swiped his leg out from under the sheets and caught you in the chest, propelling you towards the wall. You blinked instinctively and appeared above your bed. You crashed into the bed with enough force to shatter the frame and knock the wind out of you. 

You groaned in pain and heard Bucky curse in the next room. Somehow you realized that he was about to scramble to check on you and you had the instinctive and overwhelming urge to hide the destruction before he could see it. 

You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way your ribs were bruised if not broken and you blinked into Bucky’s room. 

“Bucky?” You asked breathlessly, glancing at his messy bed. 

“Doll?” His voice sounded behind you. You spun around and saw him standing with his hand on his doorknob and you sighed in relief that you’d caught him in time. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay? I thought I heard something . . .” You tried to play it off as though you were just now coming into his room. 

Bucky watched you for a long minute and you did your best to pretend that everything was okay. His eyes drifted to your side and you had to fight your instinct to press a hand against your ribs. 

Eventually Bucky nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m okay.” His voice nearly broke as he said the last word and you did your best not to notice. 

You nodded slowly and let out a breath, keeping your body stiff as a board as your ribs ached against the pain of that simple action. “Right.” You nodded again. “Right. Well . . . are you going to go back to sleep? Or would you prefer a late-night snack and an impromptu movie night?” 

Bucky blinked at you and you waited patiently for him to decide. When Tony had very reluctantly agreed to let Bucky move into the tower, he’d given Steve one strict rule. “You bring him in, he’s YOURS. You clean up his messes. You take responsibility for his actions. Oh. And one last thing. One wrong move and he’s out of here. Period.” 

Steve had immediately agreed to all the demands. He just wanted his friend to get better. You’d also agreed because you had every intention of helping Steve’s wayward friend. The man had been through hell and back he deserved to be praised, not vilified. 

When you and Steve had put him up in your guest room, you’d done your best to make it welcoming for him. You’d gone so far as to reach out to the therapist he was being forced to see asking what he thought. He didn't give you any specific advice like what color to paint the walls. Bucky hadn’t reached a point of open communication with him yet for Dr. Isaacson to know one way or another. But the man had suggested that perhaps it was a good idea to wait on putting up any pictures with particular sentimental value to Steve. 

“Mr. Barnes is starting to remember. But he’s also not the man that he once was.” Dr. Isaacson had warned. “Forcing memories on him will only make him feel guilty for not being what he’s expected to be.” You had nodded and started making mental note of all the photo albums Steve had been given from various museums when he’d first come out of the ice. You’d have to hide them. Maybe Clint could help you find a place. Not to mention the internet. You’d groaned internally. You were going to have to put parental locks on Steve’s internet. 

Dr. Isaacson had glanced at your expression and had smiled. “The best thing you can do,” He said. “Is give Mr. Barnes choices. He hasn’t had those in a long time. Having control of his situation now will help him more than anything else.” 

You’d taken that to heart. 

So, as you stood in his bedroom with aching ribs you waited patiently for him to decide. 

Bucky shrugged a shoulder bashfully and you shook your head. You step towards him, carefully scrutinizing his expression for any sign of discomfort. “You gotta have a preference in that big brain of yours, Sarge.” You murmured softly. “Come on. You can tell me. I’ll go easy on you.” You sent a soft smirk in his direction. 

Bucky smiled sadly back at you and glanced at the ground. Quietly, he wondered what he’d done to deserve you and Steve in his life. Despite the monster that HYDRA had made him, you and Steve had welcomed him in your home with open arms. You’d nearly died in an effort to retrieve that book that still held copies of his trigger words and here you were again; still fighting to help him feel human. 

Bucky knew which he’d prefer, but he hated to ask for it. He didn’t want you staying up on his account. 

“Movie night sounds good.” He managed to say quietly. Part of him hoped you heard it. The other part of him hoped you’d go back to bed. 

You smiled softly and held out a hand. “Alright. Movie night. I have a good one I think you’ll like.” 

Bucky stared at your hand for a long minute before he reached out his flesh hand and placed it in yours. Your smile only grew at the small sign of trust and you led him out of his room and into the hallway. 

You didn’t notice Bucky’s eyes drift to your bedroom door which was still shut tight as you passed or the way his eyes narrowed slightly at way you were slightly favoring your left side. 

You led Bucky to the kitchen and sat him down on at the bar. “Okay. We can’t have movie night without snacks. They had popcorn back in the forties, didn’t they?” You murmured to yourself as you puttered around the kitchen. You put the kettle on the stove to boil and then wandered to the pantry to get a few popcorn bags. You popped them in the microwave and hit the popcorn button before you turned to Bucky. 

“Sorry, Sarge. Homemade is always better, but I don’t have the patience for that. I’ll have Steve make some for you though, the next time he’s around for movie night.” 

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He watched as your smile grew mischievous. “Or maybe movie nights will just be OUR thing. Steve steals enough of your time anyway.” You turned back to the microwave as it started beeping and you didn’t notice Bucky swallow hard. 

The thought of spending time with you . . . alone . . . Bucky couldn’t decide how he felt about the idea. 

You pulled out the bag of popcorn and put another one in. Then you reached for a big bowl above the sink. You pulled it down and dumped the bag of popcorn into it and then pushed it towards Bucky. “Have at it, Sarge.” You encouraged. 

You moved back to the pantry and sorted through everything looking for marshmallows, cinnamon, vanilla and hot chocolate packets. You pulled whip cream out of the fridge and plopped that down too before you went to the stove and pulled the kettle off just before it started shrieking. You mixed the chocolate powder into two mugs and poured the boiling water on top before you pushed one towards Bucky. “You can add whatever you’d like to it. Steve likes adding all these extra things. Says he ‘didn’t have all these newfangled flavors back in his day and he’s got to make up for lost time now’.” You made a face. 

“Steve’s a damn liar.” Bucky said softly. 

Your eyes flew up to his and the most delighted smile appeared on your face. Bucky felt warmth spreading over him that had nothing to do with the drink you’d placed in his hands. He’d done that. He’d made you smile. 

The microwaved beeped and you pulled the second bag of popcorn out and dumped it into the half-full bowl in front of you. “Alright. You grab your drink. I’ve got the popcorn. Let’s go watch a movie.” 

Bucky grabbed his still plain, thank you very much, hot chocolate and followed you to the couch. You put the bowl on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. You flipped through your digital library until you found what you were looking for. 

“I think you might relate to this one.” You said enigmatically as the movie started playing. You dimmed the lights and returned to the couch, sitting close enough to Bucky you could have leaned your head against his shoulder. You plopped the popcorn bowl in his lap and turned your attention to the screen. Bucky smiled at you softly for a minute before he turned his attention to the screen too. A black screen lit up the room and ‘Meet the Robinsons’ appeared on the title card. 

At some point in between one plot twist, and another, the empty popcorn bowl had ended up back on the table and your sleepy head had ended up in Bucky’s lap. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he glanced down at you fondly when you started laughing and realized that he’d been running his fingers through your hair. 

He froze at the realization, but you didn’t give him time to worry about it. You reached up a hand and guided his fingers back through your hair. “Don’t stop.” You’d whispered. 

Bucky’s fingers shook as he continued stroking your hair. He tried turning his attention back to the movie because you’d been right, he had related to it. But his attention was on other things now. 

You were just starting to drift off to sleep when Bucky shifted slightly underneath you. You’d bolted upright, panicked that you’d made him uncomfortable. “Oh my . . .” You didn’t get to finish. You hissed and doubled over in pain when your ribs took the opportunity to remind you that you didn’t heal as quickly as some people in the apartment. 

Bucky was off the couch in the next second, hands hovering over you as he crouched in front of your gasping form. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You waved him off and forced yourself back upright. Tears were stinging at the corner of your eyes, but you blinked them away and tried to smile at him. “Sorry. Just pinched a nerve.” 

Bucky’s jaw ticked and he shook his head. “What happened tonight, doll?” He asked firmly. 

You cocked your head. “You had a nightmare. We watched a movie.” 

Bucky shook his head and slid his fingers under your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. “You and I both know something else happened first.” 

You swallowed hard. “Don’t do this.” You pleaded. You were so afraid of how this might set him back. 

Bucky smiled sadly. The pain and acceptance that you saw there nearly broke your heart. He pushed to his feet and walked away. Your brain scrambled to keep up. You heard Bucky walking down the hall and you suddenly realized what he was about to do. You blinked and appeared in front of your bedroom door. You flung your arms out. “What are you doin’, Sarge? The movie’s not over yet.” 

Bucky’s heart shattered as he realized his hunch was correct and he shook his head. He grabbed your hand and gently tugged you away from the door. You thought about tackling him to the ground but you worried that might just cause a whole other set of problems. You could do nothing more than stand back awkwardly as Bucky opened your door and stepped inside. Bucky froze in the doorway and let out a horrified gasp. 

Your shoulder slumped and you blinked past him, reappearing in the bedroom. You moved to your dresser and grabbed his arm. “Right. Right. I shouldn’t have taken it, I know. It’s just so . . . shiny? And I like shiny things?” 

Curse your inability to think on the spot. You held the arm out to Bucky just so you’d have an excuse not to face-palm. 

Bucky brushed his arm aside as he moved into the room and started at the broken bed. Seeing it now, it looked a lot worse than it was. You decided to voice that thought out loud. 

Bucky’s eyes shot to you and in the next second, he was running his hands up and down your body, searching for injuries. When he got to your ribs you couldn’t help but wince. 

“Pinched nerve?” You offered up again. 

Bucky stared angrily down at the ground. You could tell what he was thinking and you didn’t like it. 

“James . . . it wasn’t your fault . . .” You started. 

Bucky’s head whipped up and the anger in his eyes almost made you take a step back. Instead, he reached out and pulled his metal arm out of your grasp. He twisted it back into place before he led you to his room. He picked you up and put you in his bed and pointed a finger at you. “Stay.” He ordered. 

You held up your hands in surrender. 

Bucky’s murderous gaze pinned you to the bed for another second before he seemed satisfied that you weren’t going to move and then he stomped out of the room and back to the kitchen. You heard the sounds of fumbling before the noise from the movie turned off. Then you heard him rummaging in the kitchen. You occupied yourself by staring at the ceiling, scripting a level-headed and rational reason to tell Steve why you’d disobeyed indirect orders. For some reason, you didn’t think the worry-wart was going to take it well. 

Before long, Bucky was stomping back into the bedroom. He had a bundle in his hands that you stared at curiously. 

He shook his head and gestured with his chin for you to scoot over. You turned on your side, facing him as you pressed your back against the wall. Your bruised ribs face up. 

Bucky hesitated a long moment before he climbed into bed next to you. He rolled on his side so he was facing you and then he reached out and put the bundle against your ribs. You let out a breath of relief as the cold of the ice inside the rag started soothing away the pain. Bucky kept his metal hand pinned to your side, keeping the ice against your ribs. His eyes were focused on your side when he started talking. 

“You shouldn’t have come in here, doll.” He murmured, his voice breaking. “I coulda done a lot worse.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t believe that for a second, Sarge.” 

Bucky shook his head. “You don’t know what all I’ve done. I’m a monster.” 

You thought for a second and then shrugged a shoulder, finally drawing Bucky’s eyes to your face. “Maybe you were. But you can’t honestly tell me you’re the same guy that did those things.” 

Bucky didn’t say anything, he just watched the earnestness of your statement bleed out of your eyes. 

You reached up a hand and placed it against his cheek. “You’re not the man you were in the forties. And that’s okay. You’re not the man you were under HYDRA either, and that’s even better. The fun thing about starting over, Mr. Barnes, is that you get to decide who you’re going to be. Be a magical zookeeper for all I care. It’s your choice.” 

Ever since he’d gotten back, people had been telling him he had choices. It wasn’t until this moment that it finally sunk in that he did. A weightlessness seemed to engulf him, and he struggled to keep the tears back. “Get some rest, doll.” He said gently. “Sorry for waking you up.” 

You smiled softly and let your eyes slide shut. “Never apologize for that, Sarge. I like spending time with you.” 

Bucky waited until your breathing evened out and then he slowly leaned towards you and pressed his forehead against yours. He let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you for being you.” He murmured in Russian. 

In the early hours of the morning, he fell asleep next to you. 

Steve came home tired after a long mission. He saw walked into the apartment and saw the empty popcorn bowl and the empty mugs on the coffee table and smiled to himself, glad that you’d managed to get Bucky out of his shell. 

Steve wandered towards the bedroom, slightly surprised that you weren’t up and about yet, but fully content to get in a few hours of cuddles with you if you were still in bed. He headed towards your room and glanced at the open door in confusion that melted into trepidation as he saw the shattered remains of your bed on the ground. 

His heart was beating painfully in his chest as he swallowed hard and moved to Bucky’s door. He raised a hand to knock, but the sound of sheets ruffling had him open the door slowly and peak in. You and Bucky were lying side by side in bed. Steve snuck closer and saw the dark bags under both your eyes and realized what must have happened. He shook his head and sighed, wondering if this is how Bucky felt back in the day when Steve would throw himself at danger recklessly. 

Steve moved to slip back out of the room when his eyes were drawn to your side where Bucky’s hand was curled protectively over yours. 

Steve stared at your hands for a long moment, a thousand thoughts on his mind. Then he slipped out of the room and went to shower. 

By the time he got out of the shower, you were staring at the remains of your broken bed, your lip caught in between your teeth. 

“Mornin’ doll.” He said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You grimaced and he immediately pulled away, glancing down at you in concern. 

You turned around to smile at him brightly and you batted his hands away when he went to pull your shirt up. “Stop that.” You ordered playfully, though there was a slight edge to your smile. “We’ll get carried away and if you haven’t noticed, the bed’s not exactly useable.” 

Steve ignored you and pulled your shirt up anyway. He didn’t have to lift it very far to see the beginnings of dark bruising against your ribs. He dropped your shirt and sighed. “Doll . . .” He started in his lecture tone. 

You stared pointedly at the wall, desperately trying to think of the name for the exact shade of color it was painted. 

Steve shook his head. “You’re worse than I was.” He sighed dramatically. 

THAT caught your attention. You spun towards him indignant. “Uncalled for, Rogers.” You groused. 

Steve just chuckled and grabbed your hand. He weaved his fingers through yours as he pulled you gently towards the door. “Yeah? So you went and got this checked out in medical already?” 

Your silence was telling enough. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go, sweetheart.” Steve started tugging you towards the apartment door before your hand disappeared from his. He turned around to see you suddenly sitting on top of the kitchen counter. 

“They won’t do anything I can't do here.” You said. 

Steve took a few steps towards you and you blinked away, suddenly appearing on top of a bookshelf in the living room. A smile that said you weren’t about to play fair stretched across your face and Steve had to fight the urge to return it. 

“Come on, doll. At least get an X-ray.” Steve pleaded, fully prepared to climb the bookcase if that's what it took. 

“Never!” You called. 

You blinked away and appeared in the hallway just as Bucky was stepping out of his room. 

“Buck! Grab her!” Steve ordered. 

Bucky didn’t hesitate as he grabbed you around the waist and flung you over his shoulder, careful of your bruised ribs. “Why?” He asked. 

You pounded on his back, playfully. “’Cuz Steve’s a sore loser, that’s why!” You tried to sound put out but it was hard to do when you were laughing so hard. 

Steve shook his head and smiled. “’Cuz she needs to get those ribs checked out. THAT’s why.” He said. 

Bucky nodded thoughtfully before he started walking. “Well, you heard the Captain doll. Orders are orders.” 

“Don’t let him trick you, Sarge! His rank means nothing! Nothing I tell you! You give him orders not the other way around!” 

You could have blinked out of Bucky’s arms just as easily has you had Steve’s, but as you heard the rumbling of a laugh building in Bucky’s body, you decided to stay right where you were. You wouldn’t miss this for the world. 

Bucky shook his head. “I promised him I’d follow him till the end of the line, doll. ‘Fraid I can’t stop now.” 

You and Steve exchanged a misty eyed smile over Bucky's casual declaration before you slumped dramatically in Bucky’s arms. “Fine.” You grumbled half-heartedly. “But if I have to deal with medical before my morning coffee, we better get ice cream for breakfast.” 

Bucky stepped into the elevator and stood still long enough for Steve to lean down and press a kiss to your lips. 

“Sure, doll. As long as it’s sprinkled with oatmeal.” 

“Ugh! Gross! Steve! What’s wrong with you. Sarge. Hey, Sarge.” You tapped on Bucky’s head. “You hearing this apostasy back here?” 

Bucky’s smile only grew and for the first time, he felt like he truly belonged somewhere. “I dunno doll. Ice cream and oatmeal doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You muttered. You pretended to throw up. 

Bucky and Steve exchanged a knowing look but didn’t dignify your little show with a response. 

Steve glanced at Bucky’s face, free for once from the shadows that had haunted it and he smiled. The future was looking bright.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky's struggling, poor guy. But he's getting there.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, see you next time!


End file.
